


Blueberry

by orphan_account



Category: SHINee
Genre: Bottom Lee Taemin, Crotch Stepping, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, In Public, PWP, Public Humiliation, Sex Toys, Smut, Sub Lee Taemin, Vibrator, messy drabble, tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22227859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They’re sitting in a dessert parlour, but that’s not the only thing Gwiboon wants to devour.(sorry)
Relationships: Kim Gwiboon/Lee Taemin
Kudos: 27





	Blueberry

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags

One more minute here and Taemin thinks he will combust, until every remnant of him melts into the floor and everything fades into black, or white, or whatever colour everything fades into when you spontaneously combust at a dessert parlour.

He writhes in his seat, hips pushing back whilst his neck strains with how low he’s hanging his head. A little more and it’s almost on the table, next to his plate.

Gwiboon sighs in faux content, actions cold and unaffected for how many knots she can feel in the pit of her stomach; she’s certain there are tears in Taemin’s eyes, absolutely sure he has them closed too, face scrunched and red to the tips of his ears. She’s right - if only Taemin would lift his head to let her see.

She smiles wickedly.

Taemin is unaware, busy dwelling on how even if they don’t spend another minute here, it’ll still take too many before they’re back in her bed. He wants to cry, so, so, bad, shame bleeding through his body at the thought of how sickeningly into this scenario he is, how ugly the mess of feelings crammed in his throat is and how it goes straight to his throbbing dick. But then he’s outside of his mind as soon as he feels the vibrations simmer, get replaced with pulsing instead. His body is so tense and it doesn’t help at all, makes his warm walls tighter around the vibrator shifting uncomfortably inside him. Taemin could swear even small actions like the occasional twitch of his thighs furthers it torturously against his prostate.

Gwiboon thinks it’s cute, though. Of course she does.

Cute how his fingers curl. Like they need something to wrap around, but he doesn’t have it in him to find something to hold. So ruined, the delay between his actions and splaying his hands back out again when he remembers where they are - beautiful.

“Taemin.”

Cold fingers on his chin. He inhales, almost chokes on the speed of it, so endearingly eager to prepare himself. The repressed moans, whines and whimpers glued to the back of his throat blocks any words from coming out, so he’s grateful that Gwiboon doesn’t wait for an answer.

“Look at me,”

He waits, heart in his ears,

“and I’ll turn it off.”

His head shoots up immediately, and it’s just as she was expecting. Eyes damp and a little unfocused, lips bitten to ground the rest of his face - he can’t contort it in the same sexual way where anyone can see them - but there’s still a slight furrow to his brows.

Before Taemin gets the chance to even question Gwiboon glancing around them (not that she needs to, they’re sat in the most dimly lit spot in the furthest corner, squirming figure in front of her has his back to everyone else) he feels it.

Pressure.

Gwiboon’s smile is so sweet, sweeter than what they’ve just been eating, grossly, disgustingly sweet, for how hard her shoe is pressing into his crotch. She loves it, how she can feel his apprehension in the way his hips jerk minutely, stuck between the shame of how dirty it feels to grind up into her foot - whether he’s even been good enough for her to let him do that - and how blissful it feels, how he could come from the feeling but knows that he can’t. Not here. Not allowed.

Taemin shudders, and it’s full-blown, makes his head drop again.

She frowns. “Did you come?”

When he shakes his head no, "Look at me, pretty. In the eyes.”

It almost sounds like encouragement but they’re both aware she’s demanding it, anticipating the way Taemin tries to stop his eyes fluttering closed everytime she twists her foot insistently into his hot thrumming center. Anticipates the way he gets too shy to hold eye contact, how she can almost feel the embarrassed burn in his chest and under his pretty skin. Unfortunately, she can’t watch him fight himself for too long, her gaze having to redirect to the approaching waiter, which means she hasn’t had time to turn the vibrator off either. Not that she ever really wanted to, really.

Gwiboon knows exactly when Taemin hears the waiter’s shoes clicking on the vinyl floor behind him, eyes panicked and fingers trembling as they try to grab her ankle in a weak attempt to push her off.

She lifts her foot slightly; he stills in relief.

“You guys okay?” the man chirps, his smile dazzling in it’s obliviousness.

She’s ghosting over his jeans and it makes his heart erratic, the rhythm nervous.

“Great, thank you!” Gwiboon beams, almost as bright if not for the heavy glint beneath her prettily colored eyelids. “The food here is _so_ good.” she adds, voice overly enthusiastic, but the waiter simply bounces off of her energy.

“In that case, would you like anymore?” and Taemin’s about to space out, all his energy in sitting still in front of this stranger, more aware than ever of his erection uncomfortably cramped stiff and damp in his black skinny jeans, the twisting of the toy forced inside his wet channel. It makes him feel so owned, so submissive and controlled with how all of this is because of the beautiful lady sat across from him, and he tries not to dwell on that because it’s enough to throw him over the edge in front of this man he’s never met, in front of everyone else who would chance a look at them. Still, at the back of his mind Taemin wonders if he smells like sweat or sex, if the colour of his cheeks align with just how hot they feel, if the hunch of his back and the arm by his side is enough to cover where Gwiboon’s foot is hovering over.

The pit of his abdomen is increasingly fuzzy, enough to numb his melting brain, “maybe next time, though,” and he perks after slowly processing the words - are they finally leaving? But then - “what about you, Taem?”

He swallows. His eyes open; muted surprise. Gwiboon almost pities him, can feel part of the poor boy ebbing away.

For the first time since the beautifully sculpted man came over (he looks better suited in a movie or something, not serving waffles and crepes) he’s diverted all his attention to Taemin. Taemin can’t do much more than feel their intense gazes on his messy form. Embarrassed, he glances between them, lets his jaw slacken.

“Do you want anything else?” Gwiboon clarifies, the feigned impatience masking her sadistic enjoyment is clear if one were to look for it. She nudges her foot up his inner thigh and he chokes.

“I’m. I’m uh, I-”

_No_.

Heartlessly, she pushes her toes into his balls, drags her foot up until it covers all of him and presses down. Relentless and cruel. She uses so much force that even if Taemin wanted to move against the sole of her foot he physically couldn’t, pinned down harshly.

He doesn’t have time to think about how evidently he gasps, just “I’m good! I’m good, th- thanks, tha-ank you.” he babbles, trying not to scream, or whimper, or cry, words falling out rapidly so he doesn’t have to hear how obviously they waver, giving his best eye-smile so the waiter doesn’t have to see the tears forming in them, too.

It’s terrifying, just a little more and he’ll be there, he’s been so good, held off so, so long for her- “how cute and polite.” she coos unashamedly, aware of his embarrassment and yearning to drown into his seat, “ _my good boy_. we’ll be on our way, then?”

Her smile is as seemingly warm as ever, as if those words never came out, but Taemin doesn’t have a chance to check the waiter’s reaction.

One more minute and he’ll still be here. One more minute and Gwiboon will still be toying with him, torturing him; the anticipation is hypnotic.

Taemin feels small. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> (///) 
> 
> May be a part two with waiter choi :)


End file.
